The Demise of Camille Belcourt
by sophiemay1995
Summary: Camille faces her last dies with a terrifying secret which she shares with the only person she truly trusts, Magnus Bane. Whilst he battles desire versus what he knows is best for his loved ones, Camille battles a much less threatening enemy.


_The demise of Camille Belcourt_

As she paced up and down the grubby dusty floor of the abandoned station Camille contemplated what she could do with her day. She had to admit, these days she found herself mind numbingly bored, yes, Camille Belcourt was bored. Her occasional rendezvous with Alec were becoming dull now, he was eighteen years old but thought he knew the world inside out, thought he knew what was best for Magnus. Of course, Camille thought to herself as she eavesdropped on the lovers' tiff unfolding in the tunnel below between Alec and Magnus, she knew why Magnus was blowing the whole thing out of proportion. She knew Magnus possibly better than anyone on this Earth, she could read him as if his feelings were plastered in blood, as if his thoughts shone from him in words scratched into his skin. She knew how touched he would have felt at hearing of Alec's attempts to ensure he would be the last person Magnus would ever love. The truth is however, Alec is nearing dangerously close to the secret she and Magnus have concealed for centuries. For their relationship to work, Alec demands absolute honesty from his counterpart, thus their relationship has been doomed from the very beginning. It was rather amusing on her part to listen to Alec dwindle on about their 'future' when in truth, Magnus is still very much absorbed in his past.

Camille stopped pacing for a moment and stared at the pool of light pouring from the overhead skylight, the brightness was blinding and she closed her eyes, imagining Magnus' apartment, imagining a desk which she has seen only in darkness when she would break in during the night to watch Magnus and his boyfriend sleep in dreamless slumber. She imagines a pen and writes a note on the open notepad which lays in disarray amongst countless papers with scrawled runes and Latin chants drawn all over them, Magnus would surely burn all these memories the first chance he got but not before Alec retrieves his things for if he saw, he would be heartbroken. As words traced along the paper in gliding blue fiery strokes a message began to form, a message only Magnus would see, one that served as both a comfort and a warning for her friend.

_Magnus, _

_I sympathise with you for you have sacrificed a great love of yours for the sake of our forbidden knowledge._

_It will not be an easy break up, shadowhunters get far too attached and Alec will have an army of friends and family eager to reunite the pair of you but remember, your relationship cannot function without honesty for lies are the acid which burn away goodness and love and leave bitterness. _

_Alec must be protected from the dangerous truth, if he were to know of the existence of such an ability to return to a time already lived, the power to return to the past, he would ask of you things you must not deliver; to bring back his brother, to prevent Sebastian ever having been born, possibly even ask you to prevent Clary ever having entered that nightclub. But know, you cannot meddle with the past Magnus for you have seen what repercussions unfold. _

_You shall never see me again until you come looking, and believe me, in one hundred years when you are left alone with not even a cat to warm your lap, you will come, and I will be waiting. _

_My heart will always be yours, CB._

Camille opened her eyes again and found, instead of the piercing brightness of the skylight, a young girl standing before her. The girl was Maureen of course, her servant fledgling who was obedient to her every desire. She was strong considering her size, she could fool almost any human with her innocent smile into the shadows by which time her victim would be bitten with ferocity and drained with satisfaction. Maureen looked hungry now however, her veins were protruding from her neck, their colour vivid against her light skin.

"Feed young one" Camille ordered, her commanding voice echoed off the walls.

"Oh but I will great one, I will make sure every single vampire in New York City will be fed. And after them, I will feed the whole world. The oceans will overflow with blood and amongst the dead" She paused, the corners of her mouth twitching up into an evil grin, "will be you."

Camille laughed, her fangs already biting into her lower lip, the blood was pounding through her body, "Come to think of it" She said, "I am rather hungry myself."

With that she pounced, she rose up off the ground only to be thrown back against in a bone shattering blow. Maureen's strength surprised Camille, she had no time to react before Maureen's teeth sank into her flesh. Maureen was no dignified killer, she did not bite where the blood was purest, in the veins in Camille's neck, she bit her former mistress everywhere. She began sucking on her wrist then made her way up her arm to her neck where she groaned inward, revelling in the taste. Once she was certain Camille was wholly drained, every drop licked and every surface torn, she drew away. She tapped the wall of the lobby, testing her strength and instead punched a hole straight through it, hitting soil. Then she heard footsteps, distant but clear.

She turned slowly, trying to keep quiet and kept to the shadows. Her visitor then came into focus; his pale skin seemed to reflect the little light in the room. She ate up the sight of him, imagining how she would kill this intruder, Alec Lightwood. She would of course make the experience enjoyable, Camille was no fun at all but Alec would be just delightful. She would rip those trousers off him and enjoy every single part of him; she would kiss those trembling lips then bite down so he can taste his blood before he dies. She laughed, a high pitched girly sound which to many would reassure them that she was no danger. She looked down at herself, the light glinted off her sparkling unicorn t-shirt, how ironic she thought, that the light does not glint off the blood which now soaks that poor unicorn.


End file.
